


Attachments

by erinn_bedford



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Saving The City, Tumblr Prompts, email meetings, text chats, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinn_bedford/pseuds/erinn_bedford
Summary: The entire disaster starts with an email.Or, Benvolio is a dumbass and Rosaline is a lifesaver, and together they try to save Verona





	Attachments

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the tumblr prompt: "We’ve been communicating entirely by email/phone/carrier pigeon/paid messenger for the past year as we work to bring some peace and order to this troubled land, so when I walked into the negotiation room to sit down with the fearsome and terrible politician/businessperson/famed warrior that all my people are so afraid of, I didn’t really expect it to be you."
> 
> Disclaimer: I know literally nothing about how politics work, so please forgive the vagueness and inconsistencies.

The entire disaster starts with an email.

She has about a million emails a day — perks of being her aunt’s secretary— but this one sticks out.

 _I’m a dumbass, please help_.

It’s possibly the first subject line that has made her laugh ever, so she opens it first, instead of one of the other million emails that currently need her attention before her one o’clock meeting this afternoon,

_I got your email from one of the organizers, but I missed the conference last week, and I was wondering if you had some notes. My dumbass of a boss forgot that I wasn’t there, and didn’t take any notes himself, and as you know, it was a really important meeting. Any information you could send my way would be a great help._

_Ben_

Rosaline rolls her eyes as she collects all of notes from the conference into a folder, and attaches it to the email. She assumes it’s a poor intern or new hire, not even high enough on the totem pole to get an official email.

_Don’t worry. You’re not a dumbass. Happens all the time. Let me know if you have any questions._

_Ros_

She deletes her official signature, as to not intimate the poor guy, expecting that to be the end of it and moves her way back into the slog of other emails. She gets through about 10 more before her computer dings, and dumbass extraordinaire has responded to her.

_You are a lifesaver. Honestly. I owe you a drink at the next conference._

_Ben_

Rosaline stares at the email for a little longer than necessary. Most people just see her as the secretary to the assembly woman, the note taker, the email answerer. No one ever really goes out of their way to want to thank her.

Her cursor hovers over the reply button for a moment too long.

_I’ll hold you to it._

_Ros_

The second she hits send, her aunts voice echoes through the hall, and Rosaline tries her best to not smash her head into the desk.

Two more years. Two more years until Livia is out of college, and Rosaline can quit being her aunt’s secretary. Two more years until she doesn’t have to answer emails, and take notes, and makes up all of the plans and proposals, and basically be running the entire Capulet side of Verona by herself.

Two more years.

And then she can leave.

xXx

He’s absentmindedly going through all of his personal emails when it pops up.

_So about that drink…_

He had almost completely forgotten about his hungover escapade into attempting to be fired, which only led to his Uncle’s threatening to take away his wages and have him arrested for embezzlement.

Benvolio knew better than underestimate his uncle, so he fell back in line, and tracked down someone who could get him what he needed.

Which led him to the apparent ‘best note taker in all of Verona politics’. In his attempt to get back onto his uncles good side, Benvolio had only found her email, completely forgotten her name, and forgot the password to his official email account, leaving her with even less information about him.

The fact that she even emails him back is astounding.

Her notes are clear and impeccable, and quite literally saved his life. He might not know exactly who she is, but he’s pretty sure she could take over the world.

He clicks open the email, half expecting half hoping that she’s going to cash in on his offer from a few weeks ago.

_From one dumbass to another, are you at the conference this weekend? And if you are, could you share your notes? Something came up with my boss, but I know this conference is really important, so anything you have will be amazing._

_Ros_

The slightest bit of disappointment runs through him, but he pushes it away, and instead focuses on the more important things going on.

_I can guarantee they will not be as good as yours, but yeah, once I clean them up I’ll send them your way._

He pauses a moment, thinking. It wouldn’t hurt to have the number of the best note taker in all of Verona. It would probably be a good thing, in all honesty.

_Here’s my number in case you have any questions._

_Ben_

He pockets his phone and straightens himself out when he hears the footsteps coming down the hall.

“Benvolio.” His uncle says, eyes sharp and calculating. “This is Ambassador Ryan. He’s very important in the plans we have coming up with Verona.”

The man studies Benvolio through cold, blue eyes. He’s used to this. To being questioned by his uncle’s people, to being studied, and watched.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Montague,” the ambassador says.

“All good things, I hope.”

His uncle flashes him a warning look, but the ambassador just swallows hard.

“That you are even more ruthless than your uncle here.”

Benvolio ducks his head and tries not to smile. People don’t tend to like him because he’s quiet. Because he watches them back.

“Just trying to do what is best for Verona,” he says. His uncle claps his back, and it takes all of his willpower not to jump.

He can get through this. He has to.

He has no other choice.

xXx

She puts him as dumbass in her phone.

Rosaline is in Milan, at a fashion show that her aunt deemed more important than the conference. Because apparently, maintain a foreign relation by going to a fashion show is more important than keeping Verona from falling apart.

Her aunt is off schmoozing someone and she decided that she could handle it by herself, so Rosaline is sitting alone, at the hotel bar, and for some reason, she pulls out her hone and stares at his contact information.

She thinks it’s because he’s the first person who’s made her laugh in a few weeks, or she just wants to talk to someone who doesn’t know anything about her, or maybe the Italian wine is just going to her head, but she clicks on her number and types out the message.

xXx

_So what exactly did you do that qualifies you as a dumbass?_

Benvolio stares at the message, making sure it is actually from the number of the best note taker in the all of Verona.

He takes another sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the table, and contemplates.

He could tell her the truth. About how he got drunk enough to forget him own name, and slept through his flight, too hungover to call his uncle and tell him he quit.

Or he could lie. Say he got sick or lost his passport, or simply wrote the wrong date in his schedule.

Benvolio orders another drink.

xXx

_Was doing my best to get fired?_

_What changed?_

_Got my priorities straight._

xXx

For some reason they don’t stop talking. They somehow never are at the same conference or meeting or debate at the same time, so they trade notes back and forth over email, and then they text. It starts off as typically work related things, but eventually, they start to dissolve.

“What are you smiling at?” Livia asks, jumping up onto the kitchen counter.

“Nothing.” Rosaline stuffs her phone in her pocket, and continues to stir the pasta. Livia’s eyes narrow at her, but Rosaline ignores her. She’s had lots of practice.

Her phone buzzes, and Livia jumps off the counter, skillfully slipping it from her pocket before Rosaline can stop her. She’s had lots of practice too.

“Who’s Dumbass?”

“Livia,” Rosaline groans, attempting to grab her phone back, but Livia dances out of reach.

“So then Merc trips up the last step and right into Romeo, who drops the bottle that we had literally spent all day trying to get, and that’s how our night ended. Sitting on the roof of our high school, completely sober like a bunch of idiots.” Livia’s face softens a bit as she reads. “Sounds sweet.”

“Give it back.” Rosaline elbows her in the gut in an attempt to get her phone, but Livia is quick.

“Who are they?”

“He’s nobody!”

Livia pauses, jaw dropping. “He? Doesn’t sound like a nobody.”

“He is. I promise.”

“Why is he called dumbass in your phone?”

Rosaline reaches out again, hoping she’s too distracted looking at the phone. She’s able to get hand on it, but Livia pulls back and then some how, the screen changes, and the phone is ringing, and Rosaline drops it.

Livia catches the phone just before it collides with the floor, and a voice echoes from the inside.

“Hello?”

There’s glee written all over Livia’s face, and Rosaline dives for it, easily taking it out of her sisters hands.

“Hi.”

“Ros?” The voice at the end says, and he’s only spoken two words, but she likes his voice. She likes his voice a whole lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry my sister thinks she’s funny. I didn’t mean to bother you,” Rosaline says, slipping out of the kitchen.

“You’re not bothering me,” he says. He must notice he says it too fast, because he quickly tacks on, “What are you up to?”

“I was making dinner. What about you?” Rosaline lets herself collapse onto the couch, swinging her legs over the arm rest.

“Reading over the latest agreement.”

“This late?”

“Works never done is it?” He sighs, and she thinks it sounds like he’s settling into a chair or something, but she can’t be sure.

“Which parts are you reviewing?”

“The compromise settlement. Even though it will never go through.”

“I can walk you through it,” Rosaline offers. She slips up before she realizes what she’s said. They have an anonymity about this. She doesn’t know who he works for, and her email doesn’t include her exact position or what office she is apart of.

“You’re working on the compromise acts as well?” Ben asks.

“Yeah. I wrote part of act 5 in the latest attempt.”

Ben coughs likes he’s choking on something. “Jesus, you’re not one of the administration, are you?”

“No,” Rosaline says, unable to stop the laughter in her voice. “Just a secretary.”

“Who writes the bills?”

“It’s a complicated arrangement.” Rosaline twists herself on the couch until she can pulls her legs up to her chest. “You’re not administration, are you?”

“No way. Official title is aide, but I like to call it personal servant.”

“Why don’t you leave?”

There’s a pause at the other end of the line, and she feels like she can hear him thinking.

“It’s a complicated arrangement.” He repeats her words back to her, and for stupid reason, it fills her with warmth.

“So you don’t think they will work? Th new accords?” Rosaline asks.

“Probably not. Both sides are asking too much, and neither will give in. They won’t compromise for the compromise.”

“Hmm.” Rosaline switches the phone to speaker, and pulls up the compromise on her phone.

“What?” Ben asks.

“What if we tried.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just me and you. The aide and the secretary. I write most of my bosses sections, and you probably have some information that could be useful. They’ve been trying to reach a compromise for over a year now. Maybe we can try something different.” It’s a crazy idea. Rosaline knows that. But she also knows that if nothing is done Verona will tear itself to the ground, and as much as she wants to leave, Verona is her home.

“Okay. I mean the worst that can happen is we can get fired.” Benvolio agrees.

“Exactly.” Rosaline brings the phone back up to her ear. “I’ll email you about it. Once I find some time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

There’s a pause of silence, but it’s comfortable. She finds herself smiling for no good reason.

“Ros?” He says, after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad your sister accidentally called me.”

The smile on her face grows a stupid amount. “Yeah. Me too.”

xXx

Benvolio stares at his phone for a little longer than necessary after she hangs up. He still has about 20 pages of the accords to read before tomorrow, and needs to type up the main points for his uncle, but there’s something about the best note taker in the Verona that he can’t tie down.

They’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and he knows approximately three things about her, but he liked talking to her. He enjoyed talking to her, about work of all things.

And now they are going to try and save Verona together. Because he liked talking to her.

His phone buzzes in his hand and he jumps almost dropping it, before he sees Mercutio texted the group chat about a party on Saturday, and that if Benvolio didn’t come, he was going to revoke his friendship card.

Benvolio texts them back, telling them he’ll keep them updated. Before he locks his phone, he flicks back to her contact information, and before he chickens out, he types out a message and sends it.

He turns his phone off before she can answer back, and focuses on the task at hand.

xXx

_You can call me anytime you want._

xXx

They work surprisingly well together. Over the next week they not only start discussing a plan to finish the compromise, but they also fall into a routine.

He texts her sometimes, first thing in the morning while he’s waiting online for his coffee. Most of the time it’s stupid things like a stupid quote he saw on a calendar, or a picture of a dog he sees on his walk. One morning, he asks texts her good morning, and asks what her her coffee order.

_Why?_

_When we finally meet I’m taking you out for coffee. Or drinks. You can pick your poison._

She texts him back a picture of her iced vanilla coffee and an eye roll emoji, and for the rest of the day, he can’t stop smiling.

He’s texting her about some of the ideas for the compromise when he walks into the party that Mercutio told him about, hitting send just as Romeo crashes into him with way too much energy for how late it is.

“I swear to god, I haven’t seen you in six months.”

Benvolio shrugs his cousin off, only to be attacked by Mercutio a second later.

“Guys, it’s been 3 weeks. Tops,” He says, making his way over to grab a drink before they can fight him on it.

“No,” Mercutio shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “This photo was taken 2 months ago. That was the last time we saw you.”

Benvolio takes a sip of his drink and glances at the photo. He knows they are right, but he refuses to give them the satisfaction. “It’s been busy at work.”

A flash of concern crossed Romeo’s face, but it’s gone in an instant when he sees someone walk through the door. “I’ll be right back!”

Benvolio’s phone buzzes at that exact moment, so he turns away from his friends and can’t stop the smile on his face when he sees her name.

_My cousin is literally going to be the death of me._

_Can we pick up the compromise tmm? I refuse to work past 9 on Saturdays._

_Course. I’m out anyway._

She doesn’t text him back explaining the cousin thing, and it hits him that she probably thinks he doesn’t want to talk to her anymore, which the exact opposite of what he wanted, so he pulls his phone back out just as Romeo comes back, this time, a beautiful girl on his arm.

_What happened with your cousin?_

“Guys, this is Jules.” Romeo says, almost bouncing with energy.

Mercutio simply raises an eyebrow at them over his drink.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Jules blushes and hides her face in his shoulder.

“Ben,” Benvolio says, offering her his hand.

“Juliet.” She gives him a dazzling smile before turning to Mercutio.

“Of the Capulet variety, right?” Mercutio asks, dropping a kiss to her knuckles.

The smile drops from her face and she turns to Romeo, and Benvolio is pretty sure he can see some fear in her eyes.

“They know?”

“I didn’t—“

“I am a Prince, my dear. It’s part of my parameters that I know who’s who, and knowing the sole heir of the Capulet’s is basically at the top of that list.” Mercutio says. “Would you like a drink, love?”

Juliet relaxes just slightly.

Benvolio glares at his cousin when her back is turned, prepared to talk some sense into him later.

_She makes bad dating choices. And then I have to clean up the mess._

_Tell me about it. Pretty sure my cousin is using his girlfriend to rebel against his dad._

Mercutio’s chin digs into Benvolio’s shoulder, and he locks his phone as fast as he can.

“Who ya talking to Benny Boy?”

“No one.”

“Mhmm.” Mercutio pokes him in the stomach hard enough to almost make him spill his drink. “Been busy at work? Or been busy with a new romantic prospect.”

“You know you would be the first to know, Merc.”

“What do you think about them?” Mercutio says, slinging an arm around Benvolio’s shoulder.

Romeo is whispering something to Juliet and she’s laughing, leaning into him, a giant smile on Romeo’s face.

“I think it’s a recipe for trouble.”

“We always knew that Romeo would end up in it eventually, hanging out the likes of us.”

Benvolio takes a sip of his drink, and tries to ignore his phone buzz in his pocket. “I’ll talk to him about it later.”

Mercutio pats his head, and steals the rest of his drink. “Until then, lets have some fun shall we.”

xXx

_Oh young love. I remember having time for that._

xXx

“Hello?”

She answers on the first ring, and for some reason it makes the entire world stop shaking.

xXx

“Is everything okay? It’s 3 in the morning.”

She should be asleep, but her aunt called her 4 hours ago about a problem with an upcoming meeting that needed to be fixed asap.

“Is it lame if I say I missed your voice?” He sounds groggy, like he just work up, or hasn’t even gotten to bed yet.

xXx

She giggles, light and beautiful, and he doesn’t even know what she looks like but he might be half in love with her.

“No,” she sighs, but she sound content. “No, it’s not lame as all.”

They are silent for a beat, and he can hear papers ruffling across the phone.

“Is everything okay?” She asks again.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

He’s drunk. And his hands have been shaking for the last hour, and all he wants to quit his job and leave Verona, and never return, but there’s things he needs to do. Like make sure Romeo is safe, and finish this compromise, and maybe, finally, meet her.

xXx

He’s silent for long time, like he’s thinking of the right words. She lets him think, just listening to him breathe and imagining what he looks like, all the way across the phone.

“It’s been a tough week. And I’m a dumbass,” he finally says. There’s an edge to his voice that she can’t place.

“Same reason as last time?”

“I haven’t missed work yet, so no. But close.” He sighs, and she’s pretty sure she can hear his head thump against something.

“God,” he groans. “I’ve really missed your voice.”

Rosaline pulls her legs up to her and chest and rests her head on her knees.

“What’s your coffee order?” She asks, because she never goes his.

“Caramel Macchiato.”

xXx

“Now that’s lame,” she says, laughing at him,

“No, it’s not. It’s delicious.” He’s automatically on the defense, trained by years of Romeo and Mercutio’s teasing.

“I guess I’ll have to try it then. When you take me out for that coffee.” She says it so easily that it almost takes him off guard.

For the first time in almost his entire career, he’s looking forward to the next meeting.

“Yeah. When we get that coffee.”

“Are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” Better now, he wants to say, but it’s late, and he’s drunk, and it might not be for the best.

“Good.”

xXx

They hang up only a few moments later, and Rosaline drops her head to her desk. She really cannot wait for that coffee.

xXx

_Chances of you being at the Midlands conference?_

_Being sent back to Milan that day._

_Board meeting on the 10_ _th_ _?_

_Required to be two states away for a speech._

_It’s like the universe it working against us, Ros._

_I’m missing the meetings for the next three weeks after that. Campaign duties._

_Well. Seems like we won’t be able to get that coffee until the next compromise conference._

_28 days._

_Is it lame if I say I’m counting the minutes._

_Very._

_But I like lame._

xXx

“Oh no,” Guiliana says, collapsing dramatically into her desk chair, a week before the next compromise conference. It’s the first she’s been in before 10 in the last month so it much be pretty important.

“What’s wrong?” Rosaline asks, pulling out the stress relief tea that she saved for special occasions.

“The Montague’s. They are bringing along their aide to the compromise.” Guiliana accepts the tea, and clicks her nails along the desk. “It’s said he’s even more terrible than his uncle.”

“Is that even possible?”

Guiliana nods. “How are the proposals coming along. They need to be perfect if that monster is dragging along his beast. I’ll need your notes on it by Friday. “

Rosaline snags one of the stress teas for herself. She had been working on the proposal with Ben for the last few weeks, casually flirting in between emails and late night conversations.

They definitely aren’t dating, but this is the closest thing she’s had to a relationship since her last breakup over two years ago. And she likes him. Likes him way more than she should.

But they work well together. And for the first time, Rosaline feels like the compromise might actually work.

“I have some notes now. About the new voting zones, if you wanted to discuss them.” Rosaline offers.

“I said Friday, Rosaline,” Guiliana snaps. She waves her hand to indicate that she is done with her, and Rosaline steals another packet of tea for good measure.

Just a few more years, she tells herself.

Just a few more years.

xXx

_will you be my alibi for when I set my boss’s office on fire?_

_Course. I’ll even help you if you want._

xXx

“Wait? The Montague aide is coming?” Isabella asks, almost choking on her wine.

“Why is everyone reacting like that?” Rosaline says, refilling Isabella’s glass.

“Because, I mean, he’s literally found problems even in the most perfect proposals. And he’s quiet. But like, pretty sure he knows all of your secrets. He just watches you.” Isabella shivers. “I’ve only met him once, but he’s scary.”

Helena tips her head back on the couch. “I’ve heard he isn’t all that bad. You just feel like he is studying you. And he only speaks to his uncle.”

“It’s unnerving.” Isabella protests. She settles on the couch next to her girlfriend, and takes a sip of her wine. “But enough talk about the conference. Tell us about phone boy,” Isabella says, her eyes sparkling.

“You mean dumbass?’ Livia says, dropping her book bag at the door and kicking off her shoes.

“Whose dumbass?” Juliet asks, following Livia into the living room.

“He’s just a guy.” Rosaline says, glad that no one can see her blush.

“How come I haven’t heard of him?” Juliet asks, pouring two more glasses of wine, and passing one to Livia.

“Because you’ve been too busy dating a Montague for the past few months.” Rosaline shoots back.

“Fair.” Juliet tips her glass, and settles on the floor. “What’s his real name?”

“Ben.” Isabella supplies before Rosaline can answer. “And she’s meeting him at the conference on Tuesday.”

“Shut up,” Rosaline says, stuffing her face into a pillow.

“Oh,” Juliet says. “Ohhhhh.”

“Yep.” Livia pokes Rosaline in the knee. “Are you excited?”

“I’m not taking about this.”

Helena starts to laugh, and then the entire room is laughing, and Rosaline throws a handful of popcorn in their general directions.

Her phone buzzes, and her cheeks flush even more.

_Would I be getting my hopes up if I asked you to dinner after our coffee?_

“Betcha that’s him,” Isabella says.

“She’s blushing,” Livia says.

“Shut up.”

xXx

_Going to be running late today. Boss had some mishaps this morning. Get coffee after?_

Benvolio reads over the text again, and his stomach drops. He was hoping they could meet before the meeting, before the craziness, before everything possibly went to shit.

_Yeah. That works for me. Hope everything is okay._

_Yeah. Just typical boss problems._

His uncle claps a hand on his shoulder, and Benvolio almost drops his phone.

“Are you ready, nephew?”

“Yes,” Benvolio says, trying not to grind his teeth.

“The Capulet’s are running late, so we should have at least a little bit of pull for our side today.” Damiano slips down the hall, and something in Benvolio’s heart snaps.

Capulet’s.

Running late.

Just his luck. The girl he’s halfway in love with is most likely a member of his families worst enemy.

He can already hear Mercutio laughing at him

xXx

She sneaks into the conference room at the last second before the meeting starts, settling into her typical seat on the outskirts of the room, computer at the ready for notes.

But she’s not looking at her computer. She looking around the room, hoping to stumble across the name tag for a Benjamin or a Ben. It’s childish of her, but she wants to find him before he finds her.

People are still chatting quietly with each other, so she takes her time scanning the names, the anticipation making her heart beat a little bit too fast.

Her eyes fall upon the Montagues’ and she takes a moment from looking for Ben to investigate the apparently terrible aide. There’s Damiano Montague who she knows very well, and her eyes fall to the next name tag.

_Benvolio Montague._

Rosaline let’s her eyes slide up to the man’s face, but he’s already looking at her.

He’s attractive. The kind of attractive that is almost dangerous. Everyone had told her he was dangerous, a beast in his own right.

But something about him makes her want to trust him.

His features melt into a small smile, and he raises his hand in greeting.

And that’s when it hits her.

Ben.

Benvolio.

As in Montague.

All of the excitement melts into stress.

Of course she would accidentally fall in love with the one person she could never have.

She could see her friends laughing at her already.

xXx

Surprisingly, the compromise goes over well. The Montague’s get the church and the surrounding areas that they had been after for years, and in return, the Capulet’s get the university. The opposing sides all agree, and an official signing date is decided.

It worked. Their compromise worked.

And no one would ever know it was them.

Rosaline can understand why everyone was afraid of the Montague aid. He had watchful eyes, and at times, it looked like he see right through people. He was always scribbling furiously, and when he spoke to his uncle, the entire room held their breath.

But, she also knew him. And she knew that he wanted this compromise as bad as she did.

She’s walking out of the conference room, when someone grabs her arm, and before she knows it, she’s being swept into one of the smaller waiting rooms.

And he’s there.

Ben.

Benvolio Montague.

The man she is supposed to hate, and fear, and never, ever trust.

But all she wants to do is kiss him.

“Hi,” she says, trying to contain the smile on her face.

xXx

“Hi.”

She’s beautiful. Even more beautiful close up.

Ros.

Rosaline.

Of the Capulet variety.

He honestly should have seen it coming, retribution for the way he talked to Romeo about Juliet.

“You’re not at scary as everyone thinks you are, you know.” Rosaline Capulet is smiling at him. She has mischief in her eyes, and a proud smile on her lips, and god, if he wasn’t already half in love with her, he’s pretty sure this could send him over the edge.

“I never claimed to be.”

“I think it’s because you never smile.”

She’s teasing him. They’ve been talking long enough for him to know that.

“Maybe I had nothing to smile at.” He says. He takes a step toward, like there’s a gravitational pull leading him straight to her side.

She’s hugging her laptop to her chest, and she ducks her head, hiding her own smile from him. “You smiled at me.”

xXx

She doesn’t know what to expect. He’s too far away from her for her to touch him, but when she glances back up, he’s closer to her.

“I did.” The edges of his lips quirk up, and Rosaline shakes her head at him.

He’s ridiculous. And a flirt. And she’s really, really attracted to him.

“You know,” she says, placing her laptop down on one of the desk, before making her own way to be closer to him. “I didn’t expect one of the most ruthless men in all of Verona Politics to be you.”

Benvolio scoffs, and she’s pretty sure she sees him retract into himself slightly. “Why, because the Montague’s are such outstanding people?”

There’s a poison in his voice, one she’s heard before when he talked about his ‘boss’, who she now realizes in his uncle. There’s a hatred there, a strip of exposed wiring, a wound full of salt.

“No.” She shakes her head, and takes the last few steps until she’s close enough that if she wanted she could reach out and touch his arm. “I meant, I didn’t expect the guy who sent me the only email heading that has ever made me laugh, the guy who I had spent the last three months trying to save Verona with, the guy who would call me at three in the morning to tell me he missed my voice, to also be considered dangerous and ruthless, and all around terrible. Because that is not the man I know.” She stops, right in front of him, gently grabbing his jaw to make him look at her. “That is not the man I saw in there. That is not the man I am seriously thinking about kissing right now.”

xXx

He’s pretty sure he has forgotten how to breathe.

It’s one of the first things he learned how to do, so he’s not sure how she’s managed to make him forget, but he has.

She wants to kiss him. And he very desperately wants to kiss her back.

But, he’s forgotten how to breath, and his brain is not functioning at full capacity.

“I like your voice even better in person.” It’s not his most eloquent moment, but her face lights up, and he suddenly remembers how to be a person, and slips his hand around her waist so he can tug her closer.

“So how about that coffee?” He asks, his other hand sliding around the curve of jaw.

“Would it be terrible of me to say lets skip the coffee and go straight to dinner? The only thing I’ve had to eat today was half a day old croissant.”

“No. Dinner sounds good.” He’s smiling at her when her hands slide over his shoulders, and then the next thing he knows, her lips find his, and he forgets everything expect her name.

Ros.

Rosaline.

Of the Capulet variety.

His heart may or may not skip right out of his chest.

xXx

“Wait, that’s dumbass?”Juliet all but screams, grabbing Rosaline’s arm in the process. “Benvolio Montague?”

Rosaline attempts to detach her cousin from her arm, while Isabella stares at at said dumbass across the bar, who is telling his collective group of friends about her.

Livia has her ‘I-knew-it’ smile on her face, and Helena is trying her best to not look smug.

“After all the shit you gave me about Romeo, and you have been secretly dating your own Montague for months!” Juliet says, loud enough that the Benvolio glances up at them.

“Jules, calm down,” Rosaline pleads. “We haven’t been dating for months. It’s only been like a week.”

Juliet scoffs, and even Isabella can’t stop her laugh.

“Pretty your phone history would go against that statement, Rosaline,” Isabella says.

“Shut up.” Rosaline pulls her drink closer, and glares at her friends.

“Can I take credit for this? I mean, I’m the reason you guys started talking.” Livia says, hooking her chin over her sisters shoulder.

“No.”

Benvolio glances at them again, and this time he catches her eye and smiles. She instantly smiles back, and her friends collectively start to laugh.

But she ignores them.

Benvolio mouths, ‘all good?’ at her and she nods, causing his smile to grow. She watches at he pats Romeo on the shoulder, and then before she knows it, he’s of their side of the bar, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head into her neck.

“Hi.” He says, lips brushing over her skin.

“Hi.”

Someone groans and makes a comment about PDA, but Rosaline ignores them. All of them are guilty of the same thing, so they don’t have a say.

“Would it be lame if I said I missed you.” Benvolio mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

“Yes. But I missed you too.”

She feels him smile against her skin, and then, he’s twirling her around and his lips are on hers, and everything falls into place.

They both still have terrible jobs and even worse families, but they have each other. And plans to change things, and great friends, and a Verona that might just survive because of their compromise, and each other.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against hers.

He’s a self-proclaimed dumbass and a regretful Montague, and much better man than he gives himself credit for, and he’s all hers.

All because of an email.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here!](http://fallinfor-youreyes.tumblr.com/)


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